Cold

You are cold. Absolutely frightful to the touch.
Someone, take my face and my name
And do something better with them.
It's getting old. Well, perhaps I ask too much.
Someone, take my heart and my brain
And do something better with them.
I suppose you'd be dangerous to touch.
You could take my place, say the lines,
And you would do better at them.
When I'm getting old, I won't expect too much.
Simply take my space, take my time
And do something useful with them.